Just Need A Little Therapy
by A Phrase That Cuts These Lips
Summary: While snooping around Dalton, Kurt and Blaine find a mysterious old box. Next thing they know, they have somehow switched bodies - and the only way to switch back is something Kurt is definitely not ready for. Rating will change later on. AU from 'Sexy'.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** I don't know. I honestly just don't know. This was meant to be total crack but then the boys had to go and have ~feelings n shit. Idk how long it'll be or how often I'll update, but I'll do my best to get it done. Thanks to the awesome Rinny for beta reading. Comments make me happy. :D  
>Also I love how just when I decide to start posting this more bodyswap fic starts popping up it makes me feel so unoriginal.<br>This is also on livejournal if you prefer (my journal was made solely for posting fic. lulz.) http:/ .com/ without the spaces!

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><p>"You and your shortcuts," Kurt grumbles, scowling at the back of Blaine's head as they walk down yet another Dalton hallway.<p>

"I'm _sure _this is the right way," Blaine says earnestly. Kurt had believed him the first time he said this, and the second time. "Come on, we're going to be late."

"What are we even doing up here?" Kurt knows he's whining, but he sort of feels entitled. He's dutifully followed Blaine all over the school looking for this classroom, but even though Blaine has attended this school since he was fourteen he doesn't seem to know a single thing about its layout. "Wes isn't going to lock us in a closet again hoping we'll make out, is he?" It would be funnier if it hadn't actually happened once.

Blaine shrugs, peeking into yet another abandoned classroom before moving on. It's got to be around here somewhere. He'd gone left just like Wes told him to. Or did he say _not _to turn left? He can't remember exactly. "I guess the Warbler rehearsal room got flooded or something, so we have to use a different room for the moment."

"A room one floor up and on a completely different side of the school?"

"I took a wrong turn, okay? It's an easy mistake to make!" Kurt just rolls his eyes, but Blaine chooses to ignore it. "Let's go this way!" He grins and disappears around a corner. He's sure they'll find the classroom soon. Even when his shortcuts end up being more like long cuts they always work out. Eventually.

Kurt sighs, hefting his bag up over his shoulder. "Wait for me." He doesn't, of course, he's already turning the next corner by the time Kurt gets there. "Blaine, just _wait._"

"We have to hurry or we'll be late."

"We're already late!" He groans, breaking into a jog to try and catch up. Today is one of those days when he'd much rather punch Blaine in the face then kiss him, not that he has the nerve to do either of those things. He can fantasize, though, and he's doing just that when he literally bumps into him. Blaine doesn't seem to notice. "Ow. What is it?" He glances up at Blaine's face and is immediately worried. "Blaine, is something wrong?"

"No, nothing's wrong. We're not actually allowed to be up here, though."

"What? Why?" Kurt looks around. He's never been to this part of the school before, but that's not saying much. Dalton Academy is huge, and old. He's really only been where his classes take him. This area looks like it hasn't seen use in a while, the floorboards creaky and covered in dust, the curtains drawn tight over the windows. Some cleaning supplies rest in a corner, forgotten and molding.

Blaine takes a step forward, trying to open the first door he comes across. It's either locked or stuck from disuse, and he wipes the dust from the doorknob on his uniform pants. "I guess it's unsafe. Most of us think it's haunted, though." He grins. Everyone at Dalton seemed to have creepy stories to share, though Blaine hasn't experienced much. Once he felt an invisible hand grab his shoulder, and then heard footsteps walking past him even though no one was around, but that's about it. Still, it's generally accepted that a building this old has to have some sort of eerie history and a few ghosts floating around.

_Just lovely, _Kurt thinks. Instead of following Blaine, he hangs back. "Okay, so, definitely not where we're supposed to be. Maybe we should leave."

"Hang on a minute."

"Blaine, we're going to get in trouble. We're going to be late."

He tries another door. This one opens, but it ends up being a broom closet home to nothing but a couple of spiders. "By the time we get there we'll have missed practice and there's

no one here to catch us. Come on, I want to look around."

Kurt takes a hesitant step forward, and the floor creaks underneath his feet. "I really don't like this. I think we should go."

"Scared?"

"Oh, please."

"Then come on!"

Kurt trails behind him uncertainly, wrinkling his nose in distaste at the dust that immediately settles over his shoes. "This is stupid."

"I just want to see if there's anything interesting up here. Don't be so boring."

Oh, _he's _boring now? Sometimes he doesn't understand why he has a crush on this boy. He's about to retort when he hears the unmistakable sound of footsteps coming closer. They look at each other, eyes wide. "Shitshitshit," Blaine hisses.

"How much trouble did you say we'd get into?" Kurt whispers.

"Dylan Samson got suspended for sneaking around up here last year."

The footsteps get louder, and a faint voice calls out, "Is someone up here?" Kurt's eyes widen even more. "_Shit."_

"Come on come on come _on!" _Blaine grabs his hand, tugging him roughly towards yet another door, which thankfully opens with only a little trouble. It's dark in the abandoned room, the only light coming from a tiny window at the top of the wall. Blaine locks the door and steps back. Kurt's breath sounds too loud in the dark room, so he holds his breath as the footsteps grow louder, pause in front of the door – Blaine's hand is still wrapped around his, and he grips it painfully – then continue on, growing fainter.

They remain silent for a long time, just to be sure, until Blaine finally lets go of his hand, flexing his fingers absently. Kurt's hand is sore from the tight grip, but as soon as the contact is gone he wants it back. His thoughts are interrupted by the light overhead suddenly flickering on – he looks at Blaine in time to see him flick a light switch by the door.

He blinks against the sudden light, looking around the now dimly lit room. It's full of stacked up boxes, mostly, and a decrepit desk sits in a corner, a few odds and ends stacked up on it. In the other corner there's a tall old mirror, so covered in dust and cobwebs that it doesn't reflect anything. He doesn't like being in this room-he just gets a freaky vibe from it, like they're not meant to be there.

Blaine steps forward, opening up whatever boxes are on top. Kurt watches him, fidgeting uncomfortably. After a moment, he says, "Blaine, we should go."

"I'm just looking around." He abandons the boxes and starts rummaging through the desk instead.

"I don't like this. There's nothing here anyway. Let's _go."_

Blaine ignores him, and Kurt doesn't even know _why _this is a problem, doesn't know why he's freaked out. Except the weird room seems to be affecting Blaine, too, but in a different way.

"Just looking." He repeats, his voice weirdly blank. Blaine knows he's looking for something specific as he roots through the junk on the desk. He's not sure what, but he's hyper-focused on the search. He hardly even hears Kurt complaining in the background, but whatever, Kurt's probably making a big deal out of nothing. And maybe, in the back of his mind, he knows that the fact that he's ignoring his best friend when he's obviously extremely worried is a sign that something is wrong here, but he doesn't dwell too much on it.

He needs to focus on finding…something. He'll know when he sees it.

Kurt contemplates leaving, but what if his intuition or whatever is right and something bad happens to Blaine? He grips the strap of his bag tightly as he watches his best friend rummage around like a man possessed. "Blaine, please, we need to get to class," he pleads. "You're scaring me."

"Check this out." Blaine picks something up, something that fits into the palm of his hand. He walks back over to Kurt, holding out the whatever-it-is for him to see. It's a small, square box, carved in intricate patterns and then painted in swirling, glittering blues and greens. There are letters scratched into the sides, but they're not from any alphabet Kurt recognizes. It's beautiful, he supposes, but when Blaine holds it out to him he recoils. "What's wrong?"

"Get rid of it," he pleads. It gives him the same feeling as the rest of the room. It feels _wrong._

"Jeez, Kurt. It's just a box. Wonder what's inside."

Kurt shakes his head. "I don't care. Leave it."

Blaine ignores him, trying to pry the lid off with his fingers. "Stuck," he mumbles, but he finally manages to shift it a little.

"Don't!" Kurt pleads, because he knows, he just _knows _that something bad will happen if he doesn't stop him. When the lid shifts again, almost all the way off, he acts on instinct, reaching out to grab the box with the intention of knocking it out of Blaine's hand.

Instead, a jolt runs first through his fingers, then up his arm, then through the rest of his body like an electric shock, finally reaching his head.

As soon as the electricity, or whatever it is, reaches his brain, his vision goes white, and he's barely aware of his knees buckling, and falling to the floor. There's a rushing in his ears, and then all at once it feels like his body is being stretched and pulled all the wrong ways, and he can hear someone screaming – is it Blaine? He can't tell, it's too far away, but he feels the sound wrenched from his own throat, too, so maybe it's both of them –

And then he can't hear anything, or see. The only thing he remembers as he falls unconscious is the touch of Blaine's fingertips against his.

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><p>When Blaine opens his eyes, he immediately has to shut them again against the wave of dizziness and the nausea that come with the action. He breathes deeply – not an easy task, his chest feels tight and almost bruised – and tries to assess whether or not he's okay.<p>

He feels sore, but not actually injured, sort of like he'd overworked himself while exercising and is now making up for it, or – well, like he'd passed out on a hard wood floor for god knows how long. He's lying on his back, he can tell that, but he can't remember how he got there or why he blacked out. He tries to retrace his steps. Kurt had freaked out and he hadn't cared, for whatever reason, too focused on… _oh. _The box. The box which, he suddenly realizes, he's still holding on to.

He hears a groan – in a voice that sounds too low to be Kurt's voice, and he wonders suddenly if there's anyone else in the room. He opens his eyes slowly (this time the dizziness isn't as bad) and turns his head toward the voice.

And looks into his own eyes.

He and – his clone? What the _fuck? – _both yelp at the same time, sitting up and scrambling backwards. But the cry that comes from his throat? Too high pitched, too… too _Kurt._

"Who are you? What's going on?" The other him cries, then gasps and claps a hand over his mouth, eyes going even wider if possible at the sound of his voice.

"I…" Yeah, no mistaking it, Kurt's distinctive voice is coming out of his mouth. He lifts a shaking hand – too pale, the nails neatly manicured in a way he's never had the patience to do – and touches his face. His skin is too soft, and where he normally has a five o' clock shadow by the end of the day it's smooth to the touch. He continues to explore the strange (and yet so, _so _familiar) face, his fingers tracing perfectly shaped eyebrows, soft lips, a pert, upturned nose. A few feet away he watches The Other Him – the clone, whatever you want to call it, he can call it anything besides what he knows, in his heart, is its real name – do the same thing.

"Who are you?" The Other Him repeats, letting his hand drop from his face.

Blaine doesn't want to believe it. But he answers anyway, everything in him recoiling from the sound of Kurt's voice coming out of his mouth when he speaks. "Kurt? Is that you?" He has to ask, just to be sure.

"Of course it is," he snaps. "Who _are you, _you freak_? _Why do you look like me?_"_

"It's me," Blaine whispers. "It's Blaine."

Kurt – _how can that be Kurt, how can Kurt have Blaine's body, his face, his voice? – _shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut. "No. Stop it."

"I swear it's me. I don't know what's going on but it seems like we switched bodies –"

"Stop it! I don't believe you!" Kurt hugs his knees to his chest, still shaking his head. This isn't happening to him. This is absolutely not happening to him and soon he'll wake up and this will all be a dream.

Blaine glances around, his eyes falling on the mirror in the corner. "Come here," he urges, because he has to be sure. He stands up, taking a moment to steady himself against the dizziness before gesturing for Kurt to follow him over to the mirror. Kurt comes to stand beside him as Blaine dusts off enough of the mirror with his sleeve to be able to see.

He raises a hand, just to be sure. The reflection of Kurt moves along with him.

"Oh my god," Kurt whispers, and he expects _his _lips to move along with the words, but Blaine's reflection moves instead. He _is _Blaine, and Blaine is him, and… "Oh my _god._" His breath comes with difficulty, he can feel himself start to hyperventilate. _Yeah, _he thinks, the voice in his head far calmer than he actually feels. _This is the perfect time for a panic attack, Kurt._

"Okay, okay, stay calm," Blaine says, but he sounds about as relaxed as Kurt feels.

"_NO, BLAINE, I AM NOT GOING TO STAY CALM!" _He yells. _Not when you're just standing there in my body, talking in _my _voice… _

"Shh!" Blaine hisses. "We can still get in trouble for being up here!"

"Oh, yeah, because that is our biggest worry right now!"

"You think I'm not freaking out?" Blaine snaps. "We have to stay calm or we'll never figure out what's going on here."

Kurt takes a deep breath, dragging his eyes away from the mirror because the sight of them is making him even more panicked. "Okay," he says after he's calmed down a little.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't worry. Like I said, I am plenty freaked out." Blaine sighs. "Okay. So. I'm in your body, and you're in mine. But what happened?"

Kurt shrugs. "You were acting weird and you tried to open that box." He points to where they had been laying, and Blaine notices for the first time that he'd dropped it when he stood up. It's now laying on its side, the lid sitting a few inches away."I tried to stop you. When I touched it we both blacked out."

"It's something to do with the box, then."

He nods, but he doesn't move to grab the box. The thing still scares him. "How is this possible, Blaine?" He asks quietly.

"If I knew we would have fixed it by now." Blaine runs a hand through his – well, Kurt's - hair – Kurt would snap at him but it's already messed up, anyway – and steps over to where the box lies. He picks it up. It feels lighter in his hand, this time, and cool to the touch. "We switched when I opened it. So… maybe if I close it?" Kurt raises an eyebrow, and seeing his signature bitch face expression on Blaine's own features is too bizarre. "Well, it's worth a try." He holds the box out, and Kurt hesitates a moment before reaching out to touch it.

No electrical shock, this time. Blaine carefully closes the lid. He waits a moment, but nothing happens. He opens it again.

"Sorry." He sighs. He refuses to be discouraged, after all, he hadn't really expected that to work. He takes turns the box over in his hand, looking for any clue. When he turns it upside down, a small, folded up piece of paper that he'd somehow missed falls out.

Kurt picks it up first, his eyes scanning the words as he sits down and unfolds the paper. Blaine watches as his eyes widen, but then his expression hardens into something he can't read.

"What is it?" He asks, but judging from Kurt's expression he's not sure he wants to know. Kurt holds it out to him. The paper is a little yellow from age, the edges crinkling when he holds it carefully between his fingers. He feels his breath catch in his throat as he reads the words written there.

_Only when you become one, in heart and in body, will you change back to your true forms._

When he looks away from the paper and back at Kurt, Kurt is staring at him. "Correct me if I'm wrong," Kurt says after a few moments of silence. "But did that thing just say that we have to fuck in order to switch back?"

Blaine wants to laugh at the way Kurt stumbles over the word 'fuck', but he doesn't. Kurt could be wrong. He wants him to be wrong. But…"Yeah," he says weakly. "I think it just might have."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Thanks so much for the comments on the first part! You're all very encouraging. I'm still self-concious about this fic but I'm having a lot of fun with it. I just finished part 3 and sent it off to be beta read, so you'll probably have that in a few days too :) I'm not sure how much time I'll have to write because I have to work most of the summer, but I'll write when I can.

This chapter is more set-up than anything, I think, but I hope you enjoy it. Comments and feedback are like crack to me.

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><p>They don't have more than a few seconds to ponder the note before they both jump, startled by the phone going off in Blaine's pocket. Blaine is confused for a second – he's pretty sure he hasn't set anyone's ringtone to <em>Pink Houses – <em>before he realizes that oh, of course, it's Kurt's phone. He pulls it out of his (Kurt's) pocket and glances at the number. "It's your dad," he says, offering the phone to him.

"Are you insane? I can't answer it! He'll just think it's you."

"Maybe we should tell him."

"No. That is _not _happening." Kurt eyes the phone warily as it keeps ringing. "You answer it." Blaine stares at him. "Go on! Pretend you're me."

"This is absolutely insane." He takes a deep breath and answers the phone. "Hi, Dad!" He says. It takes every bit of his willpower not to call him 'Mr. Hummel'.

"What's up?"

Burt's voice crackles over the speakers. _"Hey, kiddo. Where are you? You were supposed to be home half an hour ago."_

Blaine glances at the phone. It's already almost five o'clock. Had they really been unconscious for that long? At least they hadn't spent days knocked out up here. "Oh, um, sorry. I had no idea. I was, um, working on a project with Ku- with _Blaine_," he corrects quickly, hoping Burt didn't catch the slip-up. "I guess we got sidetracked."

"_Huh. Well, I wish you had called, but you're not in trouble. When do you think you'll get home?" _

"…hold on a moment." He covers the speaker with his hand and stares at Kurt with wide eyes. "He wants me to come home! I can't go over there like this!" He hisses. "What do I tell him?"

Kurt groans, running his fingers through his now gelled hair (he grimaces when his hand comes away sticky with the product Blaine uses), trying to think quickly. "Tell him…god, I don't know. Can we go to your house? We need to…talk. About things. Will your dad care?"

Blaine's throat goes dry. He's pretty sure he knows exactly what '_things_' Kurt is talking about, and to say he's freaking out a little is a huge understatement. "He won't care. Okay." He takes another deep breath and goes back to the phone. "Dad?"

"_Yeah?"_

"Blaine wants to know if I can hang out as his house tonight. He already asked his dad. We just really need to get this science project done. We're kind of behind because we've focusing on Glee Club so much." He shrugs helplessly, and Kurt gives him a thumbs up.

Burt falls silent, considering this. "_I don't know…you're sure Blaine's dad doesn't mind?"_

"I'm positive."

"_Fine. Call me when you're on the way home."_

"Will do. Thanks, Dad."

"_Yeah, yeah. Love you, kid." _

Blaine wonders if he should say 'I love you' back, but Kurt is watching him anxiously and he's so _not _a good actor and no, no, he just can't, so he hangs up the phone and tosses it to Kurt, letting out a deep breath.

Kurt catches the phone and stands up. "Thank you," he says softly. "I…I really don't know how I'm going to talk to your father."

Blaine shakes his head, following Kurt as they head toward the door. "Honestly, just let him know we're there and he'll leave us alone."

"He doesn't care if you have boys over?" Kurt knows that Blaine isn't as fortunate as he is, knows that Blaine's father isn't exactly accepting of him and makes that

very clear. Not that he's abusive, just that he's very…opinionated.

Blaine rolls his eyes. "He'll be very passive-aggressive about it, but that's it. Come on." He shoves the box, and the little message, into the pocket of Kurt's messenger bag, still slung over his shoulder. "This room is giving me the creeps."

"I tried to tell you," Kurt mutters, but luckily, Blaine doesn't seem to hear him.

The drive to Blaine's house is…well, awkward is one word for it. Uncomfortable is another word that comes to mind. He grudgingly lets Blaine drive the Navigator, because he's only driven to Blaine's house once or twice and doesn't feel like dealing with Blaine's backseat driving. Unfortunately, being a passenger combined with the fact that they hardly say a word the entire trip means that Kurt has a lot of time to stare at Blaine.

And stare he does. Because he can't believe it, really, every time he glances over half expecting to see the beautiful boy he's falling in love with, and startling when he sees his own face instead. He considers the idea that he's going insane, that he's sitting in a mental institution somewhere and this is just a bizarre fantasy playing out in his head.

He looks down at himself, at Blaine's body. It's weird, being short again – of course this would happen just when he finishes his growth spurt. Blaine's a little more muscular, his arms and chest thicker even though Kurt thinks _his _shoulders may actually be broader. His hands are a little rough, and Kurt wonders if he can use this as an opportunity to teach Blaine about proper skin care that doesn't simply involve washing his face with soap. And _oh, shit,_ Blaine eats and eats and eats without gaining weight, he remembers, just like Finn. He'll probably think it's okay to eat things like _bacon _for breakfast and pizza every day and when Kurt gets back into his own body it will be flabby and covered in the pimples he's worked so hard to get rid of. And he won't know not to let Dad put so much salt on his steak – he'll _let Dad eat steak –_

Kurt takes two long, deep breaths, gripping the edge of the seat and closing his eyes so he doesn't have to see himself or Blaine. He needs to stop thinking so much, because thinking about it is overwhelming. Anyway, he's thinking about it like this is a long-term thing and it won't be. They'll figure it out. They'll find a loophole so he doesn't have to do what that stupid paper says.

Right?

He just doesn't _understand, _and he's trying to be calm but it's so hard when he doesn't know how or why this is happening. And if Blaine is freaking out too, he's doing a great job of hiding it-he looks perfectly composed.

"Hey. We're here." Blaine says softly, making Kurt jump. He hadn't noticed the car stopping. "Are you okay?"

"No," Kurt says with a laugh, staring down at his feet. "No, I'm not."

"Kurt, I'm so sorry for all of this."

"It's not your fault." Even though it absolutely is. "Let's get this over with." When he looks back up, Blaine gives him a sad smile before climbing out.

Blaine's house is a little bigger than Kurt's despite having less people living in it, and it's eerily silent. Kurt lingers in the doorway, looking at Blaine anxiously before calling out, "Dad? Sorry I'm late getting home. Kurt came over to help with our, uh, science project."

A few moments later, Mr. Anderson pokes his head out from what looks like a study, pushing his square glasses up on his nose. "Hi, boys. Will you be up in your room?"

"Um. Yes."

"Hm. Well, focus on your homework, okay? Don't get too distracted. Keep the door open."

Behind him, Blaine flushes. "Kurt and I aren't together," Kurt says quickly, because that's what Blaine would say – Blaine is always _very _insistent about that fact, he thinks, a little bitterly.

"Hmm. Well, I need to get back to work." He vanishes again, and Blaine immediately heads toward the stairs. Kurt is a little rattled by the short conversation, though he's not entirely sure why, but he trails behind Blaine, surprised when he shuts the door behind them after they enter his room. "But he said –"

"Don't care. He doesn't ever come up here." Blaine shrugs, sitting down on his un-made bed. "I figured you wouldn't want him to accidently hear us…talking."

"True." Kurt gingerly sets Blaine's backpack and jacket down on a chair, looking at the floor, at the posters on Blaine's wall, at the ceiling – anywhere but at Blaine. The room is a little messy, though not as bad as Finn's, with light blue walls and carpet to match, and Kurt immediately wants to redecorate everything. He can _feel _Blaine watching him, so he clears his throat. "So."

Blaine gestures for him to sit, and Kurt perches on the edge of a desk chair. "I _really _want to be able to say something to make this all okay," Blaine begins. "But I just…don't know." He looks at the scrap of paper again, clutched in his hand the entire time. "You really think that's what it means? That we have to…" He feels

his face heat up in a blush. Kurt's pale body seems to blush more easily than his does. "Well. You know."

"'Become one in heart and in body'," Kurt quotes softly.

"Sounds pretty lovey-dovey. But that seems weird. I mean, you can't force someone to be in love."

"Clearly." Blaine frowns at the bitterness in Kurt's voice. It's not even that he isn't in love with Kurt. Well, he _isn't, _but he feels like life would be easier if he was. He's not in love with anyone, but if he were, he would probably be in love with Kurt. "So all that's left is...sex."

- Hide quoted text -

"Jesus." Blaine groans, rubbing his eyes. This is so fucked up, so impossible, on so many levels. But they can't stay like this. Blaine feels wrong inside of his skin, like he doesn't quite fit. He takes a deep breath and shrugs helplessly. "Well?"

Kurt stares at him. "Well _what?_"

"Um. Should we?"

"Should we wh- _oh._" Kurt's eyes widen in horror. "I – I don't –"

"I mean, if that's what it's going to take, shouldn't we, you know, get it over with?" With the way Kurt is staring at him, he can practically feel himself shrinking, digging himself deeper with every word.

Kurt scoffs. "Just lovely, Blaine. I always wanted my first time to be in someone else's body, just to 'get it over with'. Truly living the dream."

"What – hey, it doesn't have to mean anything. It doesn't have to count. Just, might as well try, right?"

The silence is so thick it's almost hard for Kurt to move. He stands up slowly. "I don't even know what to say." His voice trembles, and he shoves his hands into the

pockets of Blaine's jeans so he can ignore how the rest of him is shaking, too. He feels a little sick. "So I'm just going to let _you _figure out how many wrong things

you just said."

"But –"

"_No, _Blaine," Kurt snaps. "I can't _believe _you; I never thought you would – _ugh_." He steps toward the door.

"Where are you going?" Blaine stands up.

"Home. I can't be here right now."

"You can't. You're not yourself right now, remember?"

Kurt freezes with his hand on the doorknob. "_Fuck._" He whispers, a word he rarely says.

Blaine stands, too, flinching when Kurt shrinks back against the closed door. He hadn't meant to upset Kurt like that, never; he just...didn't know what else to do. "I'm sorry."

"Stop saying that. It doesn't _help_."

Blaine runs his fingers through his hair, a nervous habit, but somehow it still startles him when it's _Kurt's _perfect hair he ruins and not his own. He drops his hand, knowing how much Kurt hates it when people touch his hair. "Okay. What do you want to do, then? Should we tell our parents, see if they can figure this out?"

"That'll go over well. 'Hey, dad, we switched bodies and now we have to get it on.'"

"Your sarcasm is really unhelpful."

"We can't tell anyone. They'll put us away!"

Blaine throws his hands up. "I don't know what to _do, _okay? I don't know what you want from me, and – I'm sorry if I'm being insensitive, but it's my body too, okay? This isn't just about you. I don't want to be stuck like this!"

Kurt inhales shakily. "I know. I _know._" He whispers. "But I can't. I _can't_ do that with you." And it sucks, he thinks, because sometimes he wants to, like, _really _wants to, despite his fear, and he can't imagine that Blaine will ever be willing again and _why can't he just take this chance? _

But he can't, and he won't. "We'll figure this out, find a loophole, figure out some other way to fix this mess, just – _please, _Blaine. Don't make me do this."

Blaine immediately feels even more awful than he did before. He had _never _meant it that way. "Kurt – _god, _no," he says quickly, stepping forward. Kurt watches him warily. Does Kurt really _think _of him that way? Does he really believe that his _best friend _would force him into something like that? "No. I wouldn't – I would _never _force you, okay? I'll never do anything you're uncomfortable with. I didn't mean to make you feel like I would. I'm not like that."

Kurt bites his lip and nods. He hadn't meant to freak out, or make such a big deal out of it, but he couldn't help but be scared. It was worse because it was _Blaine _who scared him. He takes a deep breath and forces a smile before turning away from Blaine and sitting down again. The silence is awkward, still, but not scary.

"So…" Blaine says slowly. "We can't tell anyone and you can't… you know. I guess the only thing to do for now is…"

"Learn how to be each other."

"Right."

Kurt opens up Blaine's backpack, rummaging around until he finds a notebook and pen. He starts writing furiously. "What's that?" Blaine asks.

"A cheat sheet. Schedules, how to take care of my dad, whatever essential information you'll need to be me." He grabs another pen off the desk and tosses it at Blaine, who immediately starts searching for more paper. Kurt pauses in his writing to tear off a couple of blank pieces and hand them to him. "I'll write what I can think of but if there's anything you need to know, call me. And vice versa. We'll talk at school and meet at the Lima Bean as usual, too."

Blaine nods as he starts writing his list. "We'll have to live at each other's houses."

"We should try to visit each other at home often. Just so we can see our families." Kurt sighs. "It won't be the same, but we'll have to deal with it. Here." He hands Blaine his cheat sheet.

He glances over it. His own list mostly consists of the details of his extensive school schedule, so far, but Kurt's is a lot more detailed. There's a list of what his dad can and can't eat (Blaine will have to learn how to cook), what Blaine is no longer allowed to eat (he grimaces at the list, and wonders how long he can go without eating something deep-fried), the exact order in which he uses his moisturizing products, the days he has scheduled to hang out with Mercedes and Rachel, and how to deal with Finn. "You're really planning long term."

"Better to be prepared. We don't know how long we'll be stuck like this." He buries his face in his hands. "I _wish _I could, Blaine. I wish I could do what you want and fix this mess."

"I know."

"But you understand? Why it isn't that simple for me?"

Blaine sets down his pen. "Come here." Kurt eyes him warily, but stands up – Blaine does the same – and walks over to him. Before he knows what's happening, Blaine has wrapped him up in a tight embrace. "We'll be okay, Kurt," he promises, voice shaking. "We'll work it out."

He's a little embarrassed to say he clings to Blaine a little, because he doesn't want Blaine to leave, doesn't want Blaine to go to Kurt's house and live Kurt's life while he stays here, with a father that isn't his, trying to be Blaine when he knows he won't succeed. So he clings, for a little while, trying to get comfort from the boy causing him grief.


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry for the delay! Hope it's satisfactory.

* * *

><p>Blaine leaves when Burt texts him, asking if he's on the way home yet. He gives Kurt one last lingering hug, starts to say 'I'm sorry' for about the hundredth time but stops himself, and then he's gone.<p>

Kurt sits down and tries to organize his thoughts. Even with the finished 'cheat sheet' Blaine had given him he feels completely overwhelmed. But if Blaine's father is as uninterested in his son as Blaine says he is, he won't have to deal with him much. Maybe he can just spend all of his time at Blaine's house – no, _his house. _Kurt's house. Where he still lives, if not for the time being, thank you very much. He shakes his head and then looks around the room, trying to decide what happens next.

First things first, he _has _to get out of this god-awful uniform and wash the gel out of Blaine's hair. He looks through Blaine's closet until he finds an acceptable pair of pajamas, then heads toward the bathroom that connects to Blaine's room. Only when he steps inside and locks both doors does he realize that, oh, right, putting on pajamas means getting naked. Getting _Blaine _naked.

For half a second Kurt contemplates never showering again, but that's just too gross, so he takes a deep breath and starts to unbutton his blazer. _This doesn't have to be weird, _he thinks, _or awkward or creepy. _After all, it has to happen eventually, right? Blaine is going to have to undress in _his _body sooner or later, or at least he hopes so, because if he gets back in that body to find that Blaine hasn't showered or changed clothes once, he'll probably punch him in the face. (He still avoids the thought of Blaine seeing his body naked, though. Even if it's inevitable, it doesn't mean he has to enjoy the idea. He should probably avoid thinking about it ever again because it freaks him out way too much.)

Of course, Kurt doesn't _have _to undress in front of the mirror, but there he is, pulling Blaine's undershirt up over his head to reveal a broad, not overly muscular but certainly toned, bare chest. And, well, yeah, he stops and stares for a bit. He can't really help it, and he'll have to get used to this anyway. Blaine has a light dusting of hair across his chest, not much but still more that Kurt has. Kurt never thought he would find that attractive, but it works on Blaine. He's _gorgeous, _which Kurt already knew, but _damn – this_ is why he likes boys; boys are _awesome. _Why isn't he okay with having sex with this guy, again?

His fingers dip below the waistband of Blaine's uniform pants, and the brief but overwhelming giddiness at the sight of his half-naked crush wilts away and dies, because _oh, right. _It's not Blaine he's looking at; it's himself, sort of. And, general crippling terror of sex and intimacy aside (though that is the biggest problem), even if he did break down and sleep with Blaine to switch back, he would essentially be screwing himself. It's too weird to think about.

Kurt shuts his eyes before gracelessly pulling down the uniform slacks and boxers, then takes a deep breath and opens his eyes again, only to feel like the wind is being knocked out of him. It's not as if he's never seen a dick before, of course, and he tries not to stare for too long, but… wow.

This is where it crosses the line between curious and creepy. He doesn't even like to look at himself for this long, or at all, when he's undressing, he shouldn't be invading Blaine's privacy like this. Kurt shuts his eyes again before he does something completely stupid like _touch _it, which – _well, _now that he's thought of it – no. No. That would be bad. Very, very bad.

_Shit. _He thinks miserably. It just wasn't supposed to _be _like this. His first time seeing a real life naked boy was supposed to be _with _said real live naked boy, in his own body (probably naked himself although that is, he decides, optional), allowed and willing to explore at his leisure without feeling like a disgusting creep.

Being stuck in your crush's body is not as kinky or as hot as he might have imagined (if this were the sort of thing that _anyone _imagined.)

He takes the fastest, coldest shower he's ever taken, his face burning in embarrassment, trying not to wonder if Blaine stripped as soon as he was alone, too.

* * *

><p>The first night being Kurt isn't as bad as it could be.<p>

Dinner is awkward, because he barely has time to get in the door before he's sitting at the table in front of something delicious Carole had prepared. He tries to make small talk, but he is paranoid that if they ask him how his day went, he'll blurt out something like, "I got lost on the way to Warblers practice, switched bodies with Kurt, oh and I totally aced my Chem test." Finn begs for help with his history homework, and Blaine automatically responds that he's terrible with history but if you need an algebra problem done, he's your man. The bewildered look at Finn's face as he backs out of the room is enough of an indicator that he screwed up there, reminding him that it's not enough just to wear Kurt's skin. Kurt will have it easy as far as pretending goes because Mr. Anderson doesn't notice Blaine anyway. Kurt has a family who cares about him fiercely and _will _notice when something is wrong. He has to put more of an effort into _being _Kurt.

Luckily, when they ask why he's being so quiet (seriously, loudest and most hilarious family _ever_), he quickly assures them that he's fine, he's just had a long day. By the time he escapes up to Kurt's room, he feels his exhaustion down to his very bones. He slips on a pair of stretchy yoga pants and an old t-shirt he finds in the closet, bypassing the expensive silk pajamas, before collapsing on Kurt's huge soft bed. He has time to vaguely remember the last time he was in this bed, wasted and trying to snuggle and not quite understanding why Kurt kept angrily shoving him away, before he's dead to the world.

He wakes up many times during the night, feeling itchy, almost, uncomfortable no matter what position he lies in, and he wonders if he'll ever grow accustomed to living in this body. Part of him hopes not.

There's a weird moment in the bathroom the next morning before school, as he's climbing out of the shower and wrapping a towel around Kurt's thin waist, when it occurs to him that this is _Kurt, _half naked in front of him. So yeah, he stops and looks for a minute, but whatever, it's not as if he's doing anything bad. He wonders why the sight gets him so flustered, but chalks it up to the fact that Kurt is, well, gorgeous and completely his type.

Not that it means anything.

At school, he automatically begins looking for Kurt's impeccable hair in the sea of identical uniforms, before he reminds himself that he's looking for his own face. Still, he doesn't actually see him until lunch, when Kurt sits down across from him as he starts eating.

"My hair," Blaine says in place of a greeting. Kurt has, thankfully, put product in it, but instead of being plastered down his curls are actually definable, with only enough gel to make it lay flat. Kurt clearly doesn't understand the dangerous relationship between Ohio's humidity and his hair.

Kurt waves him off, shrugging off Blaine's backpack and setting it in the empty seat next to him. "You'll thank me when you realize that your scalp needs to breathe once in a while. Besides, look at _my _hair!" He reaches across the table and tucks it behind Blaine's ears so that it's no longer flopping over his eyes. He's hardly seen his hair like this, totally free of product, since he was twelve. It makes him look even younger. "There's a thing called hairspray, Blaine, and it's essential for me."

Blaine can't help but smile. "I'll try to remember." Kurt smiles back, but it seems forced. He clears his throat. "So… how are you holding up?" He asks hesitantly.

"As well as can be, given the circumstances," Kurt replies, averting his eyes. _I saw you naked, _he thinks, and wonders just how hard he's blushing. It shouldn't be a big deal, because it was inevitable, but somehow it is. "You?"

"Not too bad. It's tough, being you."

"Tell me about it," he says dryly. "I know it's only been a day, but I miss them. My family, I mean. We were supposed to have dinner together, tonight."

Blaine nods sympathetically. "Maybe you can come over?"

"No. It's just a family thing, and I'm not family anymore." Kurt sighs. If he had known that last week's Friday night dinner might have been the last for a long time, he would have tried to make it more special.

"Saturday, then? I know it won't really be the same, but you'd get to see them, right?"

Kurt smiles again, shyly, his first real smile that day. Blaine just sounds so eager to please. _Why does he have to be so cute?_ "That would be amazing. But what about you?"

Blaine shrugs. "I don't miss home all that much right now. I mean, of course I want to visit dad, but no rush, right?"

"Yeah." Kurt looks at him oddly, but before Blaine can question why, he changes the subject. "We can trade homework. I'm awful at all of your subjects, and I'd hate for our grades to suffer for this predicament."

He's thinking ahead far better than Blaine is, keeping track of all these rules and arrangements almost as if he's writing up a business contract. It seems weird, but if it will make this whole mess easier, Blaine will to go along with whatever Kurt thinks is best. "Awesome," he answers. The rest of the meal is quiet, and when Blaine leaves for History class, he leaves with a strange sinking feeling in his gut.

* * *

><p>Kurt swallows, fighting back the instinct to walk straight into his house, and rings the doorbell. He hears the familiar thud of Finn's footsteps and his voice calling out "I'll get it!" and seconds later the door opens.<p>

"Oh, hey, Blaine," Finn says, and it's still disorienting to be called that. He steps aside to let Kurt in. "'Sup?"

"Not much," Kurt says, trying to mimic Blaine's more casual way of speaking. "You?"

"Playing video games with Kurt. Did you know he was so good at Call of Duty? I've never seen him play video games before," Finn asks excitedly. Sure enough, when they enter the living room, Blaine is perched on the couch with an x-box controller in his hand. He grins a very un-Kurt-like grin, showing all of his tiny teeth, when he looks up.

"No." Kurt, who never plays video games, fakes a smile, already feeling irritated and a little ill though he isn't sure why. "I had no idea. He'll have to teach me some time."

Blaine turns the controller off. "Hi, Ku-_Blaine,_" he quickly corrects, standing up. "Thanks for playing with me, Finn."

"Sure." Finn shoves a handful of Doritos into his mouth, never taking his eyes off the game.

"Dad? Blaine's here," Blaine calls out. Kurt remembers, suddenly, that Blaine is the touchy-feely type, and leans over to hug him awkwardly. Blaine seems surprised – which, Kurt supposes, works because he himself would probably look the same way – but hugs him back just the same.

Burt comes in just as they step apart, and at the sight of his father Kurt wants to cry a little. He feels so _guilty _for not being here to take care of him, wishes that he could run up, hug Burt, and never let go. He wishes he could tell Burt everything that happened, but he _can't._ Instead, he puts on a smile and says, "Hello, Mr. Hummel."

"Blaine." Burt says gruffly. He's always slightly awkward around Blaine, and Kurt isn't sure why. Probably just because he's the first gay boy Kurt has ever met, therefore a potential boyfriend – _yeah, right_, Kurt thinks. "Carole wants to know if you're staying for dinner."

"Oh - that would be lovely." Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Blaine's smile widen even more. "But I don't want to impose," he adds quickly.

Burt waves him off. "Don't you worry about that."

"Thank you so much." He smiles again, politely, and suddenly he can't even bear to be in this room. He reaches over to tug on Blaine's shirtsleeve – and Blaine is _seriously_ going to need a lecture on how to treat Kurt's clothes, because no one in their right mind should pair that shirt with those jeans - and says, "Kurt, we should go ahead and start on our homework!"

Blaine nods and follows him up the stairs, and watches from the doorway as Kurt immediately collapses face-first on the bed, hugging a pillow tight against his chest. When he doesn't move for at least a minute, Blaine fidgets anxiously. "Hard day?" He asks hesitantly.

"Your wardrobe is pathetic and your face pisses me off. How do you stand having to shave _every day?_" Kurt props up on his elbows and absently scratches at his jaw.

"Well, it's nice to know how you feel about my face." Blaine perches on the edge of the bed, and Kurt grunts and lets his head fall back to the pillow. "How's my dad?" Blaine asks after a moment.

Kurt shrugs. "Honestly, I haven't seen him much. And when I did he barely spoke to me."

"Yeah, he's like that."

"Why?" Kurt looks up at him. Blaine just shrugs and that seems to do the trick, because Kurt drops the subject. "I don't play video games," he says instead.

Blaine stares at him. "What?"

"You were playing video games with Finn. I never play with him."

Oh. Right. Blaine rubs the back of his neck. "Uh, okay? It's not a big deal. Finn asked and I hadn't gotten to play Black Ops yet." Kurt just scowls. "Hey, what's wrong? Should I teach you how to play?"

"You're also dressed ridiculously."

"Oh my _god –"_

"What did you eat for breakfast?"

Blaine rolls his eyes. "Toast and eggs. And bacon. With ketchup. But I didn't let your dad have any," he adds quickly.

"Mmmhmm. Look, I'm trying _so hard _to do this right."

"I don't think there's a rulebook –"

"Yes, there is!" Kurt snaps. "I wrote one right there!" He gestures to the cheat sheet, lying on his bedside table. "How many other things are you going to do with my body that I would never do?"

"Excuse me for not giving up something that makes me happy. If you don't want to play video games, fine, but what's the harm in it? Kurt, come on." Blaine groans as Kurt rolls over to face the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. "Would you just look at me?"

He sits up slowly, but still averts his eyes, hugging his knees up to his chest. Blaine sighs. "No, _really _look at me. We need to talk about this." Kurt sighs and looks into Blaine's eyes. "Thank you. Now, listen. I know you're upset. I am too, trust me, and if there was any way I could take back what happened, I would. But I don't think it has to be like this, feeling awkward and fighting every time we see each other."

Kurt bites his lip. "Is it not awkward for you?" He asks quietly.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean… showering and changing clothes and all that. Is that as weird for you as it is for me?"

"Well, a little. But I've gone to an all-boys school for two years; I'm used to showering with other people around. It's not a big deal." He shrugs, and then gives Kurt a curious look. "Why?"

"Nothing. Continue." Kurt blushes.

"I just feel like you totally hate me now. And I can't stand that. You don't even look me in the eye anymore. It really sucks. So if you could just tell me how to make you not hate me, that would be great."

Kurt stares at him for a long, silent minute, his head tilted to the side, before he reaches out and brushes his fingers against Blaine's cheek. Blaine's breath catches. "I could never hate you." Kurt says softly. "You're my best friend."

Blaine grins. Even though he just got friendzoned – _as if there are any other zones I would want to be in,_ he thinks, a little confused by his own train of thought – he feels the tension practically leak out of his body. Kurt doesn't hate him. Everything is right in the world…well, not _everything, _but still. "You're mine, too," he says. Kurt finally smiles, shyly. "Nothing will ever change that, okay? Even when weird magic boxes that want us to get it on make things awkward. You're the best friend I've ever had."

Kurt's smile wavers, but he doesn't think Blaine notices. He doesn't suppose he can be legitimately upset about being put in the friendzone when he unwittingly did it first. Anyway, it still feels nice. Mercedes is his best girlfriend, true, but it's different with Blaine. Aside from being in love with Blaine, he just _loves _him. He'll take what he can get. "I'm sorry I keep snapping at you. I'm just so frustrated." _In so many ways._

"No hard feelings. And hey, if you're that offended by my wardrobe, use my credit card and buy some stuff that'll fit me. I'm sure that having nice clothes will make this easier for you. Oh, and if you could like, show me what I'm even supposed to _do _with most of your clothes, that would be awesome. I've just been copying what I've seen you wear." Kurt laughs softly, but Blaine can already see the wheels turning in his mind, knows that _that _look means that Kurt is already planning outfits. Blaine feels Kurt's hand cupping his cheek, thumb and finger absently stroking the skin there almost as if he doesn't realize he's doing it, and lets his eyes drift shut, leaning into the touch. After a moment, though, he realizes that Kurt isn't caressing but examining.

"You're slacking on the skincare," Kurt murmurs, but he smirks when Blaine opens his eyes.

Blaine laughs. "The list is so long, though. Surely I don't have to use _every single one._"

Kurt hops up and practically skips over to his vanity table. The place where his hand rested on Blaine's cheek feels extra warm and kind of tingly, and Blaine reaches up to touch it, just for a second, before Kurt turns back around, a few bottles of skincare products in his arms. He squirts some kind of green goo onto his hands, one of the products that Blaine hadn't used because it was a really, _really _gross color and he didn't know how that could help your skin at all. "Watch and learn, Blaine Warbler," he says with a wink, smearing the cold goo onto the place where his hand had been. Blaine watches him, a warm, fond feeling rising in his chest at the determined, very Kurt-like look on his own face. He was right. Things don't have to be so weird, after all.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** I am SO SO SO sorry for how long this took, and how mediocre it is - I hope you haven't all lost interest. I thought that, after so much tension in the previous chapters, there should be some humor before we dive into more soul-searching, so here's that. Sorry it's so filler-y.  
>I want to thank Rinny, my beta, without whom I would still be flailing around.<p>

Also, I just noticed all of the formatting errors in previous chapters. AHHHHH. They are all fixed now so you can read it properly _ sorry!

* * *

><p>Rachel Berry likes to think that she's perceptive, when she isn't completely focused on herself, but she's sure that anyone could see that something is wrong with Kurt and Blaine. Things have seemed off for the past week or two now. She just needs to figure out what. And when Rachel sets a goal, she doesn't give up lightly.<p>

They're at the Lima Bean when she figures it out, their first coffee date (but not the first time they've seen each other) since this weirdness began. Rachel forgets all about her latte, too preoccupied by watching her gay friend and gay ex-boyfriend's body language. They're still just as comfortable and familiar with each other as ever, acting like a married couple most of the time, but she can't shake the feeling that something is off. Kurt's laughter is just a little louder than it should be, his hand gestures more relaxed and expressive, and Blaine seems constantly on edge, just a little, as if he just expects trouble wherever he goes.

"Medium drip and a non-fat mocha," 'Kurt says, pulling out his wallet and waving Blaine off when he offers to pay. This is also odd, because normally Blaine is more adamant about paying for their order. (Rachel appreciates that in a man - who says chivalry is dead?)

Their orders arrive, and Rachel watches, confused, as Kurt and Blaine pick up their respective coffees and trade them before sitting down. Rachel has never seen Kurt drink a medium drip before and he tends to criticize Blaine's decision to put cinnamon in his coffee, but he's doing just that right now, as if it's a habit.

And now 'Kurt' is dunking a biscotti, which he never eats, into the medium drip he would never drink, watching 'Blaine' with a fond and amused and blatantly smitten look on his face. Which is, admittedly, a look Kurt can tend to wear, but not as obviously as Blaine, and Rachel is pretty sure he doesn't even realize he's doing it (seriously, though, why aren't they together yet? _Why?)_

"Alright," She says, shoving an accusing finger in 'Kurt's' face and effectively startling him. "What have you done with Kurt?"

* * *

><p>Blaine chokes on his biscotti, and barely avoids spitting it all over the table. Beside him, Kurt's head shoots up, the hand on his coffee cup tightening its grip. They glance at each other, bewildered and, especially in Kurt's case, panicked. Still, Blaine does his best to recover quickly, like Kurt would. He stares at the finger Rachel has shoved in his face and tries to keep his eyes from crossing. "I'm not sure what you mean." He answers carefully.<p>

She withdraws her finger, looking smug. "Kurt would have told me I'm insane."

"You are." Kurt pipes up, which, now that he thinks about it, isn't helping their case at all. What is she _doing? _Is she just being her usual insane self, or has she actually figured out about the switch? And if she had figured it out – _how?_

Blaine shrugs. "Forgive me for not being rude." Is he that bad of an actor? So far, he had succeeded in keeping their little predicament a secret per Kurt's request. Burt and Carole don't seem suspicious, and Finn is oblivious to everything. But Rachel _was _one ofKurt's best friends, even if he would probably deny it.

"Mercedes told me that you actually suggested that you try on _Target _clothes during your last shopping trip." Kurt shoots a scandalized look at Blaine. "I'd even go so far as to say that _you _have been acting exceptionally like Kurt. And you, sir, are acting just like Blaine. Your mannerisms aren't matching up with your faces. Trust me, I should know. You are my best friend and ex-lover, after all."

"Rachel, we kissed twice and I was drunk. I was _not _your lover," Blaine says automatically, because he has to remind her of this more often than you might think. Kurt shoots him a death glare, and Rachel just stares at him. _Oh, crap, _he thinks.

"I never kissed Kurt," she says quietly.

Blaine groans. "Just drop it, Rachel."

"Look, I'm _worried _about you. Both of you."

Kurt throws his hands in the air. "Okay,Rachel," He sighs. He's so glad that the coffee shop is nearly empty today. "Go ahead. What do _you _think is going on?" He crosses his arms over his chest, unsure if he wants to scowl at Blaine, for giving them away so obviously, or Rachel for not minding her own god damn business. He chooses Rachel, because he's not actually mad at Blaine. It takes a lot of energy to be mad at him and to be honest, even just snapping at him a little, especially since the fight (if you could even call it that, it was more Kurt bitching and Blaine calling him out) a couple days after the switch, makes his stomach turn with guilt. He can't tell if he's maturing or just completely whipped.

Rachel ponders it for a moment. "I'm not one hundred percent sure. It seems to me like you've traded personalities, or… bodies. It's like gay Freaky Friday."

Blaine chokes on his coffee.

"How did you work that out?" Kurt raises his eyebrows. It's hard to put on a good bitch-face with Blaine's honest, open, adorable features, but he does his best.

"Kurt – I mean Blaine – whoever you are – really gave it away just now, but I had my suspicions. I am, as you probably know, a little bit psychic –" Blaine's eyes water from how hard he keeps coughing. Rachel shoots him a glare. "If you can switch bodies I can be psychic!" She says defensively. She has a point.

"Honey, I'd believe anything at this point." Kurt waves a hand. "Fine, you're psychic."

"Thank you, Kurt - or whoever you are."

He rolls his eyes. "That's Blaine. I'm Kurt. Don't worry, we get confused too."

"So how did it happen?"

Blaine shrugs helplessly and tells the whole story. Rachel listens attentively, though she can't seem to resist adding commentary wherever she sees fit. "And here we are," he finishes with a sigh.

"And you don't know how to fix it?"

"No," Kurt answers quickly. Thankfully, Blaine had skipped over that part. He really doesn't want her to know, because he just _knows _that she'll start trying to play matchmaker, and that is the very last thing he wants. Not that he doesn't want Blaine – he wants Blaine more than anything – but he doesn't want it to be about _this. _Maybe he's being too fussy, maybe he should just take what he can get, but…

Even if Blaine does supposedly fall for him, Kurt will always wonder if it's _just _to get into his pants, _just _to switch back. Even without his discomfort about sex (which, honestly, he can't see himself getting over) that would just kill him.

"What I want to know," Rachel says, her initial shock fading away, "is how this is affecting your singing!"

Blaine laughs - she _would_. "Actually, that's about the only fun thing about it. Being a countertenor is _awesome._"

"You don't need to worry, Rachel – Blaine and I agreed not to audition for solos this year. We don't want to risk screwing up the whole dynamic just because we don't know how to perform as each other." Kurt sighs. He has to admit that he's disappointed – he had _really _been hoping for a solo, or maybe a duet – but they had discussed it at length and agreed that this was best, even though their chances of winning are greatly diminished without their respective talent.

"Oh. That's a disappointment. The Warblers will hardly be competition now. I wouldn't tell you this if you were still competing but I always thought you two could pull off a decent duet." Blaine's face lights up, always eager for praise, but before he can say anything more, she's on to a new topic. Kurt manages to blank out most of what she's saying - he loves her, honestly, but he feels like he needs to ignore her every once in a while, especially when she's talking about herself, to go on loving her, it's better for both of them that way - and looks over at Blaine. As much as he doesn't want anyone to know, it's also sort of a relief to share the burden, even a little. As long as no one else gets wind of the scandal, it should be fine.

Blaine catches him staring and smiles, leaning in and murmuring, "Everything okay? I didn't mean to give it away."

Kurt smiles back in what he hopes is a reassuring manner, and squeezes Blaine's hand under the table. Pretending to be Blaine means learning to be slightly more comfortable with physical contact, which, he has to admit, is nice. "It's okay," he answers. "I'm not mad."

Everything, Kurt is sure, will be fine.

* * *

><p>"Oh my god, dude. That is so cheating!"<p>

"It's not cheating; I just bother to learn the moves instead of button-mashing like _someone_ I know." Blaine grins, punching in the complicated series of numbers to perform a fatality on Finn's character. Finn watches the screen in horror as Sub-Zero's spine is ripped out of his back, then tosses his controller down with a huff.

"Who would have thought you'd be good at Mortal Kombat? You're better than Puck. _No one _is better than Puck."

"Guess I'm lucky." Blaine shrugs. So yeah, he hadn't given up on video games. Sue him. He figures that 'Kurt' getting some brotherly bonding time with Finn can't be bad. "The outfits leave something to be desired, though," he adds, just because it sounds like something Kurt would say.

"But they make Kitana's boobs look _awesome."_

"I have nothing to say to that."

"Oh, right. Sorry." Blaine just smiles. He likes Finn more than he thought he would. Sure, the guy is an idiot, and most of his overbearing attempts at making Kurt feel accepted accidentally sound homophobic - but he's _trying, _that's the important thing. It's more than most people he knows would do.

"So!" Finn says suddenly, pausing the game just as Blaine is about to stab him in the face. "You and Blaine."

"Um," says Blaine, because - _what? _Where did that come from?

"He's over here a lot."

"Yes, he is." Blaine wonders where, exactly, this is going.

"In your room. With you. Alone."

Blaine sets his controller down. "Please tell me we're not having this conversation. We just do homework together - we're not even dating."

"Yeah, I know _that. _I just wondered if you were still, y'know, into him."

Blaine's breath catches in his throat, and he has no idea what to say. "What makes you think that?" He blurts out.

"Uh, because all you did the week after he made out with Rachel was mope about it?"

Oh. Oh, wow. He had known, vaguely, that Kurt was 'into him' around Valentine's Day, but - well, Kurt hadn't specifically _stated _that. He'd said 'I _thought _you would sing to me', not 'I _wanted _you to sing to me.' Maybe there wasn't _that _much of a line between them, but he had clung to it anyway.

It's not that Kurt isn't amazing and perfect and everything he _should _want. It's that Kurt is his best friend - his _only _best friend. He can't lose that over what could easily be a silly, passing crush. Now everything is more complicated than ever, with their bodies being switched - even if he did want Kurt like that, it would be a bad time for it.

But what Finn just said about him, about the aftermath of kissing Rachel - was that the real reason why Kurt had blown up at him? Because he wished Blaine would kiss _him _instead? Why hadn't _he _considered that? Not that it's necessarily true just because Finn says so - he'd rather it wasn't true - and not that it means it's _still _true. Kurt could very well have gotten over him by now. In fact, he probably has. He snaps at Blaine enough to make him believe it, anyway.

"Uh, Kurt?"

Blaine blinks, wondering how long Finn had been staring at him. "Sorry," he says quickly. "Um, right. About Blaine."

"I'm just curious."

"I… don't exactly know," he says carefully, because he might as well be honest. "Still trying to figure that one out."

"Well, Blaine's cool. So, I approve."

"Thanks, I think." He hesitates a moment. "Do you think Blaine likes me?"

He's not sure what makes him say it - it's not as if Finn is competent enough at relationships to give him advice. He waits awkwardly until Finn answers. "I dunno, bro. He sure looks at you the way Rachel looks at me. Except less psychotic." Blaine doesn't know what to make of that. Finn leans forward, a stern look on his face that makes Blaine shift uncomfortably. "Just remember," he says firmly, "don't let Blaine get you pregnant."

Blaine stares right back at him, honestly unable to tell if he's being serious or not. Frighteningly, it seems like he is. "How do you know I wouldn't get _him _pregnant?" He counters, just to freak Finn out.

"_Dude. _TMI!" Finn moans. Blaine laughs all the way up the stairs, and as soon as he shuts the door to his room, he picks up his phone and sends a quick text to Kurt.

_**To: Kurt**_

_your brother just warned me/you not to get me/you pregnant_

It only takes a few seconds for his phone to go off.

_**From: Kurt**_

_I shouldn't be surprised, since this is a boy who once believed that he impregnated his girlfriend by ejaculating in a hot tub, but WHAT._

_**From: Kurt  
><strong>__…what on earth were you two TALKING about?_

Blaine is still cackling twenty minutes later.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** The "sorry this took so long!1!" spiel is kind of redundant at this point, isn't it?

* * *

><p>Even now, Kurt knows next to nothing about Blaine's family. He doesn't talk about them, and even when prompted he tends to avoid the subject, closing in on himself. Kurt doesn't push it, but can't help but be curious, since he has to live with the man now. Why do Blaine and his dad live alone in such a big house, where is his mom, does he have siblings? He knows that Mr. Anderson doesn't exactly approve of Blaine's sexuality – but how far does that go?<p>

Finally, Kurt takes matters into his own hands. It's obvious that Blaine's family has issues, and while Kurt feels a little guilty about prying into them, he also feels like he has the right to know what they are now that they directly affect him, too. He cooks dinner one Thursday night, from scratch (Mr. Anderson usually brings home takeout or something frozen, which can be nice, but it's seriously getting old) and is in the middle of setting the table when Mr. Anderson gets home.

"Hey, Dad," Kurt says with a smile. Mr. Anderson just stares at the table, surprised. "How was work?"

"Same as always." Mr. Anderson works long hours some office job, and disappears into his study almost as soon as he gets home. "What's all this?"

"Braised chicken with garlic and fennel, and a roasted beet and feta salad," he says proudly.

Mr. Anderson sits down, raising his eyebrows. "Wow. That's quite the spread."

"Kurt's been teaching me how to cook," Kurt says, because at least _he _is still focused on keeping up the charade - and anyway, it's not a lie, because he has had to show Blaine a few things. He knows from experience that Blaine can't enter a kitchen without the risk of burning it down. "So I thought we could try something new. We hardly ever eat together." Kurt sits down across from him, still smiling awkwardly.

"You've been spending quite a bit of time with Kurt lately," Mr. Anderson says after a long and horribly awkward silence. Kurt swallows his food (which is delicious, if he does say so himself) and nods.

"Yeah. We're close."

"He's, ah, he's gay, isn't he?"

Something about his tone seems off, but Kurt tries not to read into it. "Yes. Why?"

"Are you two…" He trails off, as if searching for the right words. Or knowing the right words but not wanting to acknowledge them.

"We're not dating," Kurt says when the silence drags on too long. "Two gay men can just be friends, you know."

"Right. Good." Mr. Anderson mumbles it so quietly that Kurt almost misses it.

"…why is that good?" He asks slowly. He's honestly confused by Blaine's father. On one hand, he seems so blatantly uncomfortable around his son, but on the other hand, he never actually _says _anything wrong. He can't tell whether he should be offended or not.

"Just that you shouldn't feel like you have to jump into a relationship just because you have… _that… _in common," he says, too quickly. "You're only in high school. You don't necessarily know what you want yet and you're not in any hurry."

Kurt nods slowly. It's almost a legitimate thing to say, except that he and Blaine have been best friends for months now, and on top of that, it's the '_you don't know what you want' _line that's the problem; the implication that being gay is just a phase. Is _that _how Mr. Anderson thinks of it, the way so many others do? _Poor Blaine, _Kurt thinks miserably. "What if we did date?" He asks quietly. "How would you react?"

Mr. Anderson stays silent for a long time. Kurt keeps eating, avoiding eye contact, only looking up from his plate when Blaine's father speaks. "I don't know."

Kurt swallows. "Fair enough," he whispers.

Mr. Anderson nods, taking one last bite of his food before standing up. "Thanks for dinner," he says, not even trying to fake enthusiasm. "Great job. I had no idea you could cook like that."

And it's so immature, and overdramatic, but Kurt can't help but say, "I guess there's a lot you don't know about me."

"Oof." Kurt stumbles backwards under the sudden weight of Rachel's arms around his neck. He pats her back awkwardly until she releases him, beaming at him in that way that is at once completely adorable and makes him want to slap her for making him feel that endeared toward her. Blaine lingers behind her, smiling fondly at both of them. Kurt gives him a wave, which is all he can really do when Rachel is demanding all of his attention.

"Hello!" She chirps, holding up a ridiculously large stack of DVDs. "I couldn't possibly choose, so I thought I'd bring a selection."

"Oh my god, you actually have every single movie adaptation of a Broadway musical ever made, don't you?" He stares at the collection.

"And some bootlegs!" Rachel steps past him. "My two gay dads raised me right."

"Kurt, I think you're salivating." Blaine winks, ducking out of the way just in time to dodge Kurt's playful punch on the arm. He hangs up his coat, looking around the house wistfully. True, most of the time he doesn't miss living here all that much, but it is nice to be back on occasion.

As Rachel chatters away about the merits of each DVD she owns and which one they should watch first, Kurt turns to Blaine. "Hi," he says. He feels shy, for some reason, and he isn't sure why. "Um. How's my dad?" He asks this question every time they see each other, before anything else. Blaine always has the same answer, but he still has to check.

"He's doing great. Carole takes perfect care of him." Blaine can practically see the tension exit Kurt. "Don't worry so much."

Kurt smiles bitterly. "I don't really have a choice, do I?"

It breaks his heart a little, that as self-involved as he is Kurt spends so much of his time worrying about other people - more than that, it breaks Blaine's heart that he _has _too. He has so much on his plate already; taking care of his father on top of it all must be awful.

"So, boys!" Rachel appears beside them, making Blaine jump. "How are things going with our little secret?" She gives an exaggerated wink.

"We're fine, Rachel." Kurt assures her. "Just remember - right now, I'm Blaine and he's Kurt. You can't call us by the wrong names while Blaine's dad is around." Rachel nods in understanding, and just in time, because as soon as they finish talking Mr. Anderson enters, a phone pressed up to his ear.

"Hello, Blaine. Kurt." He says distractedly, pausing to shake Rachel's hand. "Rachel. I've heard all about you."

"All praise, I'm sure!"

Mr. Anderson disappears almost as quickly as he comes, calling behind his shoulder. "I'll order you guys some pizza. Have fun with your movies." He vanishes back into the study, leaving Blaine feeling a little lost. But Rachel is talking again (when is she not?) so he shrugs it off, collapsing on the couch beside his friends while they debate between musicals to watch.

It feels warm and safe, sitting here between the two of them - it's been ages, it seems, since he'd done anything fun just for the sake of it, even something as simple as watching movies with his friends. Sure, he sees Kurt all the time, but there's always a level of tension to it now, the thought of what they may have to resign themselves to lingering in the backs of their minds. Tonight, all of that is gone.

After Kurt and Rachel's debate over which musical is best gets too boring, Blaine pulls _Rent _out of the stack on a whim, and by some unspoken agreement, they all start singing along at the top of their lungs from the very first song.

The longer Blaine's father is gone, the more the Kurt relaxes - he doesn't know why. The man just makes him tense. Somehow the three of them end up piled into the middle of the couch, with Kurt's head pillowed on Blaine's shoulder and Rachel's legs draped over the both of them. When Rachel stands up to belt out every note to her favorite song, Blaine and Kurt exchange a look. Kurt ducks his head, blushing a little when the eye contact lasts for a few seconds too long, but Blaine just smiles.

Kurt isn't accustomed to so much affection, but… he could get used to this. The only problem with it is that it's _really _hard not to kiss Blaine when he's being so sweet.

Of course, Mr. Anderson _would _walk in, leaning against the back of the couch and watching the movie curiously, just as _La Vie Boheme _starts to play. Blaine immediately scoots away from Kurt, sending him an apologetic look, and Kurt watches as he visibly freezes up. Since Blaine rarely came over Kurt hadn't gotten a chance to see how Blaine actually acted around his father, but he sees it clearly now: hunched shoulders, crossed arms, anxious expression, all of Blaine's uncomfortable mannerisms on the wrong body. And nothing has even _happened_.

"What are you watching?" Mr. Anderson asks curiously. With work finished for the day, he looks far more relaxed.

"_Rent," _Rachel says cheerfully, oblivious to Blaine and by extension Kurt's anxiety. "My dads got it for me for my birthday."

Mr. Anderson blinks down at her. "Dads…?" He says slowly, realization dawning on him. He immediately stiffens, staring at Rachel as if she had grown another head.

"Arguably one of the best musicals of all time." Rachel remains oblivious to his discomfort. "Second to Wicked. Or possibly Funny Girl."

"What's it about - oh." Kurt holds his breath while, on the screen, Maureen and Joanne make out on the tabletop. Blaine closes his eyes and slumps back on the couch, and even Rachel seems to finally realize that something is wrong. Mr. Anderson's expression is one of shock. Apparently, lesbians are just as baffling to him as two gay men raising a daughter. _Lovely._

"Pizza!" Blaine says loudly, jumping up and turning off the TV despite Rachel's protests. "Blaine, don't you think it's time for pizza?"

"Yes! Pizza sounds _amazing, _Kurt." Kurt forces a smile. Blaine stands up and leads them all to the kitchen. Pizza is a good distraction for the moment - it's not often that Kurt indulges himself - until Blaine's father decides to join then.

"So, Rachel." In an effort to be friendly, Mr. Anderson shoves himself into the conversation. "How did you meet Blaine?"

"I'm the star of a rival show choir. We met at Sectionals." She turns to smile at Kurt. "But Kurt was the one who actually introduced us."

"And wasn't _that _a disaster," Kurt mutters, quiet enough that no one else would hear. Blaine kicks him lightly under the table. Oh, right, he's Blaine, that means he has to be impeccably nice to everyone he meets. Damn.

Mr. Anderson puts on a smile. "You seem to have a lot of common interests. A great match."

"That's an awful thing to say." Kurt teases. Blaine kicks him again.

"Don't be rude to your guest," Mr. Anderson says sternly.

"Yes, _Blaine, _don't be rude." But Rachel just grins, showing that she too is teasing.

"Are you going to ask her out, Blaine?" His tone is mild, almost teasing, but they can all tell that Mr. Anderson is completely serious about the question. Kurt chokes on his bite of pizza, Blaine stiffens beside him and seems to shrink back into his chair, and Rachel looks like she can't decide whether she should take it as a joke or not.

Kurt stares at him in shock. Mr. Anderson _knows _that Blaine is gay - so where is this coming from? He doesn't know how to respond, and neither, it seems, does Blaine. Rachel clears her throat. "Um, sir," she says hesitantly, breaking the uneasy silence. "You _are _aware of your son's sexuality, aren't you?"

"I am," Mr. Anderson says. "I just thought that if the right girl came along…"

"It doesn't work that way," Blaine says quietly. Kurt is proud of him for speaking up, however meekly. It appears that Blaine is only his hesitant around his father. "I can't - _he _can't just decide to like girls."

"He could, if he tried hard enough."

They're talking about Blaine as if he isn't even there. Kurt's hands clench into fists. For once he has no idea what to say, or if it's his place to say anything. But how can he sit just sit here and let Blaine take it? "Come on," he says, trying to come off as simply embarrassed, instead of enraged like he really is. "Can we not do this in front of my friends?"

Mr. Anderson shrugs. "You and Rachel just seemed to have a lot of chemistry."

"He should go out with _Kurt, _then," Rachel stresses, and Kurt shoots her a glare while trying not to read into the way Blaine's eyes flicker toward him, or the way his cheeks flush pink. "Seeing how similar we are."

"Blaine has always been prone to going through certain phases just to be different. I've always said that, once he meets the right person, he'll realize he has… better options."

"Rachel isn't even an option!" Blaine bursts out. "You're full out denying your son's sexuality - don't you see how it hurts him when you say things like that?"

_Bravo! _Kurt almost wants to applaud - Blaine had just voiced everything he hadn't found the words to say, and stood up for himself in a roundabout way. On the other hand, he feels a little guilty, although he knows Blaine doesn't mean it that way, because he _had_ hurt Blaine by denying his sexuality in the past. True, he had only said it out of frustration, and Blaine had ended up being gay anyway, but he still feels awful for telling his best friend that he simply couldn't be bisexual.

Unfortunately, it doesn't make the breakthrough Blaine had hoped for.

"Thank you for your opinion, Kurt, but I think I know my son a bit better than you," Mr. Anderson says, an edge of - not quite coldness, not anger either, maybe _frustration_ - to his voice, and Blaine tries to meet his gaze for only a moment before he averts his eyes. He can't even look his own father in the eye. No matter how much he _wants _to make things right, times like these make Blaine wonder why he bothers. "And I'm sorry, but maybe being friends with someone of your orientation and a girl raised by the sort of people she was raised by… I don't think it's the best influence on him."

Rachel looks shocked, bless her, that there are people in the world that actually think this way. Beside him, Kurt is practically vibrating with anger, and on impulse Blaine reaches out to touch his hand underneath the table. He startles a little when, instead of accepting the small offer of comfort, Kurt entwines their fingers and pulls Blaine up with him.

"Thank _you_ for your opinion." He says. "But I think my friends might know me a bit better than you. At least they _listen _when I have something to say_._ We're going up to my room now. Thank you for dinner." Tugging Blaine along behind him - and he can do nothing but follow - he makes for the stairs, Rachel trailing close behind. On an afterthought, he turns around. "And just for your information," he says, and Blaine just thinks _no, no, no, you're going to make this worse. _He understands why he's saying it and he wants to be grateful, wants to be glad that Kurt is so willing to stand up for him, but instead he just wants his friend to shut up. "I already tried dating Rachel. And I'm _still _gay." Instead of waiting for a reaction, he spins around and continues to storm up the stairs, barely resisting to the urge to slam the door behind him.

Blaine pries his fingers from Kurt's death grip, and Kurt watches as he sinks down onto the bed, breathing shakily. Rachel looks unsure of what to do, and after awkwardly standing in the middle of the room for a few moments she takes a seat in the desk chair.

"I'm sorry," Blaine says quietly. "I didn't know he would - he's not usually like this, he's usually more on the passive side of passive-aggressive."

"Don't you dare apologize for him, Blaine Anderson." Kurt snaps. He doesn't sit, too high strung to do anything but pace across the room. Blaine's eyes follow him every step of the way. Finally, he stops and sighs. "I probably made things worse, didn't I?"

"Probably."

"I just, I couldn't _stand it._"

"I know. I know. I'm sorry." Suddenly he wants nothing more than to be back at Kurt's house, he wants to be eating one of Carol's home cooked meals and wants to sit by Burt on the couch pretending not to understand the football game they're watching it (because Blaine does understand, but Kurt is for the most part uninterested and he had to play the part.) He wants to feel accepted and happy and loved, the way he always does around Kurt and his family and the way he never quite has around his own.

Rachel, who had remained uncharacteristically quiet so far, speaks up. "As far as I can tell he seems very uneducated. Do you think… maybe if he spoke to Kurt's dad? I mean, he knows all about the struggle of raising a gay son."

Blaine shrugs helplessly. "I don't know. Dad's problem is that he doesn't even _want _to get it, you know? It has to be willful ignorance at this point."

"You should probably go, Rachel." Kurt says, keeping his voice as gentle as he can make it. "I don't think anyone's in the mood for more movies right now."

Rachel stands back up. "Yes, of course. I understand. But I'm going to keep thinking about this, okay? I'll see if I can think of a way to help. And who knows, maybe I'll find a way to switch you two back, too!"

"Sure." Blaine doesn't sound convinced. He accepts her hug, but doesn't look up as she walks out the door.

The silence after the door closes is almost a tangible thing. Kurt continues his nervous pacing, but when Blaine doesn't show any sign of talking, he speaks up. "Is this why you never visit home?" Blaine looks up, but doesn't reply. "Because I'm at my house almost as often as I am here, but you hardly ever come here. Is this why?"

Blaine bites his lip and turns away, wishing they could just avoid the subject. Blaine is a very open person, and he and Kurt pretty much tell each other everything, but this… he doesn't want to talk about his dad. Finally, he answers, but doesn't make eye contact with his friend. "Most of the time I'm pretty sure he just doesn't want me here."

Kurt sits on the edge of the bed, keeping a few inches between the two of them. "And when you say that," he says slowly, "do you mean you as in you or you as in me?"

Blaine can't help but laugh, if bitterly. "Both? I don't know." It amazes him how they find new ways for this body-swap thing to be more complicated every day.

"What about the rest of your family?"

Wow. Kurt really isn't going to let this go. "They're in Cleveland. It was just when the bullying at my old school got to its worst point, and Mom and Dad were fighting all the time, mostly about me. I don't know exactly what they said to each other because I was just trying to focus on the problems at school, but Mom took my little sisters and moved. She wanted me to go with her, but I would have had to go to another public school, and I just _couldn't. _By that point, I was dead set on going to Dalton. So I stayed with Dad. We don't hear from Mom, much – I think she was relieved when I decided to live with Dad. Had enough on her plate with twin girls."

"Blaine, I'm so sorry." Kurt reaches out and touches his shoulder, concern etched into every feature. Blaine smiles, just a little, bringing a hand up to cover Kurt's. Of course, Kurt would understand. He knows even better than Blaine does what it's like not to have a mother around, even under entirely different circumstances. "Did she… I mean, is she supportive of you?"

"I don't know. She doesn't _hate _me for being gay, but I think she just sort of assumed I would stay in the closet. One of those 'I don't care if you're gay, just don't flaunt it' sort of people. None of us ever talk about it."

Kurt nods in understanding. His hand is still underneath Blaine's, and he shivers as Blaine strokes the back of it with his thumb. He probably doesn't even realize he's doing it. That's okay. Kurt just hopes he doesn't stop. He needs a little comfort, too. "I guess I should tell you that I had a little bit of a confrontation with your father the other day," he says with a dry mouth.

Blaine closes his eyes. "What did he do that time?"

"Nothing," Kurt answers quickly. "Actually, I'm not even sure if you could call it a confrontation? I just… I wanted to have _some _kind of interaction with him, but it just ended up being really weird."

"Did he do that thing where he doesn't actually _say _anything but he makes you feel like you've done something terrible anyway?"

"Yes! Exactly!" Kurt nods. "He seems pretty sold on the idea that being gay is just a phase you're going through."

Blaine just nods. He's used to that, he's been used to that mindset ever since he was thirteen, naïve and just out of the closet and still trying to figure out what this whole 'liking boys' thing actually meant. For a while he had even believed his dad, believed that he would get over it and be 'normal', but then the phase never passed. Dad kept insisting that Blaine would grow out of it once he found the right girl, and after a while, Blaine stopped listening. But there are times, like tonight, when despite any attempt to guard himself, it gets to him.

"What if I could help?" Kurt says. Blaine stares at him, but Kurt plows ahead. "What if I could get him to talk about it, we could figure out how to solve the problem –" He stops when Blaine lets his hand fall from his shoulder, and quickly jerks his own hand back.

"Just leave it, Kurt," he says. "It isn't your problem, so just let things go on the way they have been. Ignore him and let him ignore you."

"It's my problem because I'm the one living with him right now," Kurt protests. "I know you're upset, okay? I know this is hurting you, and I just can't _stand _seeing you feel this way because of him. This isn't _right, _Blaine, you shouldn't have to deal with this from your own parents!"

There's the Kurt he likes the best, compassionate and caring, but right now Blaine would almost rather have bitchy Kurt. He sighs. "You have a father who loves you no matter what. Not everyone else is that lucky. Look, I – I'm trying, okay? I've been trying to fix things for a while. But right now, I don't want to focus on that. I want to focus on us. On fixing this." He gestures to the both of them. "I know you're just trying to help. But it's not about you."

Kurt stares at him for a long time, but then nods slowly. "I'll… try. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to overstep. But the way you look, when he says something like that to you, it breaks my heart." Blaine reaches across the bed and takes Kurt's hand again. He likes the way their hands look together, for some reason, fingers entwined. "You kind of like it, don't you? Living at my house." Kurt says after a moment, smiling a tiny bit.

"Your family is incredible. Seriously." Blaine blushes. "But I don't like that you're not there with me all the time."

Kurt scoots closer, still holding Blaine's hand, and rests his head on Blaine's shoulder. "After things are back to normal I'll have Dad adopt you."

Blaine laughs despite himself. He _is _lucky, after all is said and done. He has the best friend he could ask for - if he has to switch bodies with someone, he's almost glad it's Kurt. "Deal." His eyes drift over to Kurt, snuggled up close to him. "Kurt?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for trying." He puts an arm around his friend's shoulder, hugging him gently, trying not to read too much into the blush that spreads across his cheeks - not so visible against Blaine's darker skin but still noticeable.

Kurt clears his throat and reaches across the bed, picking up his French textbook. "Here - let's get this homework over with, it's due tomorrow. Quiz me." It's more of a distraction for Blaine that any actual desire to do homework. Blaine doesn't know the first thing about the language, but even when it's the wrong voice Kurt's speaking with, Blaine will never pass up the chance to hear Kurt speak French.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Anyone remember this fic? Yeah, I barely did either. Um. Sorry? I kinda lost interest for a while, and I have another fic going, etc… I feel bad about leaving it hanging for so long, though, so I guess I'll try to update when I can, but don't expect anything regular. I can't say this is a particularly exciting update, but here it is .

* * *

><p>Time goes on, and the weird things slowly start to become normal. Blaine grows accustomed to being a Hummel, and Kurt gets used to ignoring Blaine's father to the best of his ability.<p>

Even with Rachel attempting to help, they're still no closer to finding a solution - it's starting to look more and more as if they're going to be stuck in the wrong bodies for a long time. Neither of them say it in so many words, they both know. To Blaine's frustration, Kurt still sticks his fingers in his ears every time he so much as mentions the note they'd found in the stupid box that had started it all.

He doesn't like that solution either, but he can't find another. It's not that having sex with Kurt would be such a horrible thing - Blaine's not _blind, _he knows exactly how attractive his friend is - but when Kurt is so opposed to the idea he can hardly keep encouraging it.

He feels so _stuck, _physically and otherwise. Everything seems stagnant, until one day as he's getting dressed for school, the phone rings. Blaine snatches it up on the second ring, wondering why Kurt would be calling so early. "Hey, Kurt."

"_Blaine?"_ His voice trembles, and Blaine knows his own voice well enough to know that Kurt is fighting back tears. He tugs his blazer on quickly, fully prepared to skip school to drive all the way home if Kurt needs him there.

"What's wrong? Are you all right?" He asks frantically. He tries and fails to tie his tie one handed.

"_I'm fine, b-but…" _Kurt sniffles. _"It's Pavarotti. Pavarotti is dead."_

Blaine's breath catches. He doesn't have a huge attachment to the bird - he had only taken care of him for a few weeks, until another freshman joined the Warblers - but he was the first pet Kurt had ever had, and he fully embraced the task of caring for him. He sounds absolutely miserable. "Oh, Kurt, I'm so sorry," Blaine says.

"_I suspect a stroke. I know it's stupid to - to cry over him, but…" _Another sniffle, louder this time. "_He was inspiring, you know? Always so happy. He was my friend."_

"It's not stupid," Blaine says softly. "You cared about him, it's okay to be sad."

"_Yeah."_

"Kurt, I have to go or I'll be late, but I'll see you at school, okay? And don't worry, I can take care of telling the Warblers."

"_Oh, Blaine? Can you bring my bedazzler to school?"_

Blaine blinks. "Um, sure," he says.

"_Thank you." _There's a click, and the phone falls silent, and Blaine thinks that was pretty high on the list of strangest phone conversations he's ever had. He finds the bedazzler kit without much effort, and Burt doesn't even look surprised when he sees Blaine carry it out the door with him.

He spots Kurt immediately at school, and his mouth drops open, reminiscent of the first time they had met, as always standing out in the sea of uniforms - because, like the first time, Kurt has forsaken the uniform.

He's dressed as elegantly as he can be considering Blaine's wardrobe, in a mix of things he'd taken from home that he figured would fit 'Blaine' well enough, and what he already had to work with. He's dressed all in black, wearing tight jeans, knee high boots, a silky button-up shirt and an overcoat. Pinned to the front of the coat is a brooch he'd found in an antique store, shaped like a skull. He turns heads everywhere he goes, because Blaine would never disregard the uniform. For once Kurt doesn't care about getting Blaine in trouble. After all, he has a lot to express today.

Blaine steps up to him, eyes wide. "Kurt, what are you doing? You're supposed to be in your uniform."

"I'm in mourning," he says quietly - that should be obvious. He almost expects Blaine to be angry, because he has the potential to get into a _lot _of trouble for this, but instead Blaine's expression softens and he nods before handing over the bedazzler. "Thank you." He says.

"Dare I ask what it's for?"

He tucks the bedazzler into his shoulder bag. "I need to decorate a casket for Pavarotti. He deserves a proper burial, the location of which is yet to be determined."

It would be so easy for him, or anyone, to laugh and call him melodramatic, but Blaine doesn't. He _can't. _Kurt looks legitimately miserable, his eyes rimmed in red though he's stopped crying for the moment. Not for the first time and certainly not for the last, Blaine looks at his best friend and it strikes him so hard how much Kurt _feels _everything. Every emotion comes through so strong, love and fear and joy and sadness, and he's not afraid to express them all.

Without warning, Kurt feels himself being scooped into a tight hug. He stiffens, just for a moment, and then wraps his arms around Blaine's neck, pressing his face into the crook of his shoulder and taking a deep, shuddering breath. He shouldn't continue to be surprised by how physical Blaine is, but it still shocks him every time. Only when Blaine releases him does he remember how to breathe properly.

"We should get to class," Blaine says after a moment. Kurt just nods, still staring up at him. "Like I said, don't worry about Pavarotti, okay? I'll explain it to the Warblers. They won't be mad."

"Okay." Kurt hesitates for a moment before he blurts out, "Blaine?"

Blaine turns back around, expectant, his heart pounding though he doesn't know why. Finally, Kurt says, "Never mind."

Blaine just smiles and slings an arm over Kurt's shoulders, and they begin the trek to class.

* * *

><p>Warblers practice is subdued that day - every single one of them taking a moment of silence to mourn for their beloved Pavarotti. All of them had cared for the little bird for some amount of time, and no one is glad to see him go. If anyone finds it odd that 'Blaine' is more upset than 'Kurt', they don't mention it.<p>

Kurt stands up, clearing his throat to get the council's attention. Blaine stares at him, wondering once again what he thinks he's doing. "If I may?" He says softly. "I'd like to sing something to honor Pavarotti."

Blaine expects them to say no, as rigid and unwelcoming of change as they are, but to his surprise Wes nods solemnly, taking the cassette tape Kurt holds out and putting it in the boom box. After a moment of silence, the first few bars of Blackbird start to play. Kurt breathes in deep, and sings.

It's obvious that he doesn't have as masterful a grasp on Blaine's voice as he does his own. It comes out shaky at first, unsure, but he quickly gains confidence. To Blaine's overly critical ear he thinks that his voice doesn't suit the song as well as Kurt's would, and he decides that as soon as he gets back to Kurt's house he's going to have to sing it, multiple times perhaps, just to hear it in Kurt's high, pure countertenor. Still, it's a gorgeous rendition and the song itself reminds him of Kurt, in that it breaks his heart and warms it at the same time. Barely thinking about it, Blaine starts singing backup, and to his delight the rest of the Warblers join in without any other encouragement, and Kurt, Kurt just keeps singing - and _oh_, does he sing.

Blaine looks up, his eyes automatically scanning the room for Kurt as always. When he finds him, his mouth falls open without a single sound coming out, and he stares shamelessly, because somehow it's like he's seeing Kurt for the first time, and he's _amazing. _His face, the way he holds himself, so proud and unafraid. Standing in the middle of the choir room in mourning clothes, a few stray tears rolling down his cheeks as he sings to a dead bird - it's so unapologetically _Kurt. _The face he wears doesn't matter - all he can he is Kurt, and Kurt is beautiful, and Blaine is so in love with him.

It's a sudden realization, but it doesn't feel like one. Maybe the love has always been there, lingering and growing in a distant corner of him until his heart expanded enough to hold all of these _feelings_. And it's scary, he's so, so terrified, but he smiles anyway, because out of all the people in this world he could fall for, he's glad it's Kurt.

The music stops, and it's like a spell breaking. Blaine blinks, remembering that he and Kurt are not, in fact, the only two people in the classroom, or the world. "Thank you," Kurt says, wiping his eyes and sitting down next to Blaine. Blaine silently thanks the Warblers for being infuriatingly polite, because if they are confused by 'Blaine's' show of emotion, they don't show it. Wes continues with his frantic planning for Regionals and Blaine winces when he announces the soloists for their songs this year - though they hadn't auditioned, it's a disappointment when he and Kurt's names aren't called. If anyone deserves that solo, it's Kurt.

Blaine doesn't pay much attention to the rest of the meeting. There's no point. Unless New Directions completely falls apart, the Warblers are going to lose at Regionals - he isn't even questioning it. Somehow, he's okay with that. He has bigger things on his mind.

He reaches out and touches Kurt's hand, just a brush of the fingertips. Kurt glances over to him, head tilted to the side curiously. "You okay?" Blaine whispers. Kurt smiles despite his watery eyes, and nods before turning back to Wes.

So he's in love with Kurt - probably always was, except he's such a complete fucking _idiot _that he never noticed before. He's never been so relieved to have feelings for someone. This changes _everything. _He can tell Kurt how he feels, and hopefully they'll kiss, and if that doesn't switch them back it'll only be a matter of time before they _can. _Not that he would rush Kurt, but still, he's a teenage boy too, with certain needs - mainly getting back into his own body.

Of course, he immediately feels like crap for thinking of it that way, of using their (hopefully) mutual feelings as a means to an end - of _course _it will mean more than that. But it's a definite plus.

_I love him. Now, _Blaine thinks, one coherent thing that breaks through his jumble of thoughts. _I just have to _deserve _him._

* * *

><p>Jeff gets the lead in the medley of Pink songs, and while he isn't a bad singer no one is surprised when they lose Regionals, not after the New Directions come on with their original songs and messy but endearing excuse for choreography. Kurt aches a little inside when he watches his friends up there, happy enough without him.<p>

"There's always next year," Blaine murmurs when they lose as the New Directions accepts their trophy. Kurt can't really imagine a next year with the Warblers, but he smiles anyway, and claps for his friends. On the bus ride back to Dalton, Blaine falls asleep on his shoulder. Kurt knows that he should make him move, but he doesn't, just rests his cheek against Blaine's hair and shivers at every warm puff of Blaine's breath against his skin and tries not to be sad that it doesn't mean a thing.

The very next day Blaine shows up early in the morning with one of Carole's garden shovels in hand. There's a park nearby, he explains, and he and Kurt walk there.

"I can help," Kurt offers when they find the perfect place, underneath a huge tree with branches that seem to spread for miles. Blaine smiles and shakes his head.

"Don't worry about it. It doesn't need to be that deep." He digs the shovel into the ground, digging up the perfect little grave for a bird. Kurt sits on the ground and holds the casket in his lap, staring up at Blaine as he works.

_Why aren't you in love with me? _Kurt wonders, and tears form in his eyes for reasons entirely unrelated to Pavarotti. It isn't fair. He just wants Blaine to be able to hold him. Kiss him. He wants that comfort. And how dare Blaine be such a perfect gentleman, show him such affection, when he isn't interested in Kurt in that way? It's almost like he's deliberately leading Kurt on.

Blaine looks back at him. "It's done." He tilts his head to the side. Kurt's eyes are rimmed with red, and he doesn't know why. It hurts, though. Seeing Kurt sad actually _hurts._ "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Kurt sniffs. He stands up, brushing himself off. He gently lowers Pavarotti's bedazzled casket into the ground. "Goodbye, sweet prince," he whispers, and Blaine can't help but smile, just a little. When Kurt stands back up, Blaine acts without thinking and takes his hand, rubbing his thumb along Kurt's knuckles. It's a little weird to hold his own hand, but he ignores that. When Kurt looks at him, his expression is almost one of hurt.

"He couldn't have asked for a better funeral." Blaine says. Kurt allows a little smile, watching as Blaine shovels the dirt back over the little grave. "Shall we?"

Kurt nods, but when Blaine starts to walk away, he doesn't follow at first. "Blaine?"

Blaine turns back around too fast, breath caught in his throat. "Yes?"

_I love you, _Kurt thinks. He doesn't say it. Can't. "You're a really incredible friend," he says.

Blaine's smile falters, but he puts it back on. "You too, Kurt." Yes. They're friends. And that's probably all they ever will be. He tries not to let his emotion show. If a friend is what Kurt needs, not a boyfriend, then that's what he'll be.

No matter how much it sucks.

They still hold hands on the way back to the car, and Kurt just wishes he knew what it meant.


End file.
